As the Pieces Fall in Place
by Keitorin Asthore
Summary: When the Fire Lord fell, so did the Avatar. Aang is dead, and the rest are lost. With those he has learned to love missing or worse, Zuko must pick up the pieces of the broken world.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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_There's nothing to anything- it's all smoke._

_One generation goes its way, the next one arrives, but nothing changes._

_It's business as usual for old planet earth._

_The sun comes up and the sun comes down, then does it again, and again-_

_The same old round._

_The wind blows south, the wind blows north._

_Around and around and around it blows,_

_Blowing this way, then that- the whirling, erratic wind._

_All rivers flow into the sea,_

_But the sea never fills up._

_The rivers keep flowing to the same old place,_

_And then start all over and do it again._

_What was will be again,_

_What happened will happen again._

_There's nothing new on this earth._

_Year after year it's the same old thing._

_Nobody remembers what happened yesterday_

_And the things that will happen tomorrow?_

_Nobody'll remember them either._

_Don't count on being remembered._

--Ecclesiastes 1:2-11 (The Message)

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In a moment, it couldn't be taken back.

He was used to pain, but this different. This was a calm, terrible pain, arcing through his body, twisting his hands, blinding his eyes, burning his lungs. But even though he knew what was happening, he was peaceful.

And suddenly the pain was gone. There was nothing but a sudden quiet strength seeping through his body. He felt calm, completely calm, for the first time in a long time.

He did what he was meant to do. There was no purpose left. And with a soft breath, he slipped away.

------

A laughing little girl brushed against her elbow, darting through the crowd. A little boy-so alike he had to have been her brother- chased after her. She took a step back and watched the children play. Their parents stood a little ways away, watching their children. The mother's eyes were soft, following her children as they shrieked and hopped around in their game. The sight of the little family was too much to bear. She stumbled away, farther into the crowd.

She was surrounded by people, yet she was completely alone. Around the sea of red and gold crashed around her. She was buried by them, lost in their unfamiliarity. Her heart throbbed as she stared into each face. In vain she checked each pair of eyes, searching for the lost- steel blue, foggy green, warm chocolate brown.

It didn't matter how much she searched. It didn't matter how much she wanted it. It didn't matter what she wished or what she hoped or what she needed.

They were gone. And she might never see them again.

-----

This room used to frighten him. Now it was his. He ran his hand along the intricately carved railings, idly digging his fingers in the grooves and ridges.

The cavernous hall still radiated with the old presence. There was history here, both his own and the ancestors who came before him. The idea of owning this place, of people hanging on his every word and whim, was overwhelming.

He stared up, deep into the soaring height of the high-beamed ceiling. There had never been a moment in his life that he truly believed this would be his. Now it was, and he didn't know what he was going to do.

-----

The wooden floorboards creaked and popped. Her hair caught on splinters. He grunted, his sweat dripping onto her cheek. She closed her eyes tightly.

Her body hit the floor over and over again. Her limp arms bent back over her head; her thin knuckles scraped against the wooden planks. Her neck snapped back as he jerked her up and slammed her down.

With a last vicious thrust he dropped her and pulled away. His footsteps echoed as he stumbled out into the hallway. Pain radiated through her body. The only sound was her ragged breathing; it rumbled and roared in her ears.

Seconds…minutes…hours…she had no concept of how much time had passed. She had no concept of time, of place, of feeling. Breathe in Breathe out. Stifle the pain. Don't think.

Sometimes footsteps echoed in the hall, behind the partially open door. No one came in. No one looked for her.

At long last she moved her stiff, unyielding fingers. She forced the movement to travel through her arms, her elbows, her shoulders. Gradually she shifted up to a sitting position. The throbbing pain overwhelmed her, making her head swim. She gripped the wall and dragged herself to her feet.

Each step sent a dizzying tight stab of pain through her. Her ripped clothes hung off her body in tatters, exposing her cold, bruised, bloodied skin. She didn't care. Clumps of hair torn free straggled over her shoulders and down her back. Her fingers trailed limply against the walls as she wandered through the dark.

All around her she heard shouting, laughing, talking, swearing. Bodies brushed against her, bumping and pulling. The footsteps blurred. She felt hot and cold all at once. She tripped over something. Something crashed against the wooden floor; vaguely she realized it was her own body. Her chest tightened. A harsh scraping sound broke from her throat. Her eyes burned. For a long time she lay there, heaving, crying without tears.

-----

Pain tore through his body. His breath broke from his mouth in a sharp bloody gasp. He thought he heard something as he fell- a child screaming, a girl shouting his name. But it dropped away as the wind rushed in his ears.

Breaking metal twisted and rasped in sickening crunches. Hot air blasted against his skin; his torn clothing left no protection. He hit the ground with a definite thud. His body fell into a crumpled heap, and the metal remains fell around him.

With a heavy grunt he rolled onto his side and tried to push himself up. The shattered bones in his arm ripped through his skin, snapping tendons and nerves like taut threads. He fell back hard, retching. The pain overwhelmed him; his body was cold and numb.

He stared up at the ashen sky, dizzy and unfocused. Something dark and sticky dripped down his chin. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. The congealing haze obscured his vision, and he surrendered to the darkness that swallowed him up fast.

-----

It wasn't fair. It had never been fair. She never got anything.

She had always loved him best. He thrived under her attention, under her approving smiles and gentle laughter. She was always touching him- holding his hand, smoothing his hair, kissing his cheek.

All she wanted was that kind of attention. Was that so wrong? Was it so wrong to lust after the life your sibling led?

Then again, he had always wanted what she had. But was it so much better to be recognized for what you could do than to be loved for who you are?

She dug her fingernails into her scalp, relishing in the delicious relief that the pain brought. The dark coolness of the room made her shiver. Her hair hung limply over her face. With a surrendering sigh she fell back and was enveloped by her bed, letting the blankets swallow her up the way everything else in her life had.

-----

He sat alone. The water lapped against the shore, intruding on his thoughts. Ten years ago he was content- a husband, a father, a proud chieftain in a long line of nobles. Now he was a widower, his children torn from him, his country left in shambles.

He picked up a rock and skimmed it along the surface of the water. It skidded across the placid lake before sinking leisurely. He picked up another one and threw it harder. Another one, then another. One by one he seized the rocks that piled along the shore, until water rose up in white foam, as if by destroying the peace he could create it elsewhere.

----

She walked quietly through the gardens. Moonlight filtered through the clouds, sending pale shadows over the white lotuses. Her reflection crystallized in the smooth water of the pool. She sat down on a flat rock and curled her slender legs beneath her.

All day she ran up and down flights of stairs. She carried the jars and she rolled the bandages and she tended the wounds of those not long left for this world. Anguish permeated her mornings, death punctuated her evenings.

She folded her arms across her bent knee and stared past the abbey gardens at the flat expanse of rolling green hills. For the millionth time she thought of running away, of leaving behind the life she had been chained to. But she knew her obligations, and she remained where she was.

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**Author's Notes:**

This story has been a _long _time in the making. I started developing it about halfway through season three, when I was so sure that Aang was going to die. I was incredibly happy that he didn't, don't get me wrong, but I was still curious as to how the story would have turned out, had Aang sacrificed himself.

Originally I was going to wait until the story was finished to start posting, but I couldn't wait anymore. And I'm glad I didn't. I got a lot of really honest feedback, and people said that they thought the story had potential, but everything was so short it what is impossible to gauge the story. So after a lot of revisions, and a totally rewritten outline, I present my epic.

I hope you like it! Tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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He looked so small.

She didn't want to be there, yet she couldn't bear to leave him alone with all of these strangers. Quietly she sat beside him, keeping her eyes trained on his beloved face. Her back ached and her eyes burned, but she had made a promise.

"Are you going to sit here all night?"

"I promised him I would."

She didn't turn around when he stopped behind her. "It's hard to believe he's gone," he said quietly.

She said nothing.

"You've been sitting here for hours. Why don't you take a short break?"

"I promised him," she said stiffly. "I promised him a long time ago that I would do this."

"Katara."

She looked up now. His amber eyes were unreadable. "Aang wouldn't want you to push yourself to the point of exhaustion," he said. "Go and rest for a little while."

"I can't leave him alone." The tears she had denied for the past twenty-four hours rose unbidden. "I can't…I can't let him lie here all alone."

"Katara, it's-"

She buried her face in her hands. "He'll be alone without me," she said. "Everyone else has left him."

He knelt beside her, placing a light calm hand on her knee. "Take a deep breath," he said softly.

"The healers figured out what the cause of death was," she said, staring at the still white face in front of her. "It was when he ripped the wound in his back open. It still hadn't healed completely. It drained everything from him…everything."

"Katara, calm down," he entreated.

"I remember the last time I saw him," she said. "We were arguing. I told him…I told him not to walk away, that we could figure this out together. But he did anyway. He walked away, and that was it." She clenched her fingers until her hands turned white. "I never told him…I never told him the truth."

He squeezed her knee lightly. "Don't blame yourself," he said. "This wasn't your fault."

Her ribcage constricted so tightly that the air in her throat rattled as she heaved. "They- they wouldn't let me bring Momo in here," she said. "Not even Momo. He hasn't been without Momo since-"

Her equilibrium abandoned her. She fell against him; he wrapped his hands under her forearms and held her up by her elbows. "I'll stay," he said tightly. "I won't leave him alone. I promise." She turned her head away, hiding the wet tracks on her cheeks in her shoulder, and stumbled to her feet. "Go and rest. I'll sit here with Aang."

She rested long enough to appease him. As soon as she dared she crept back, but what she saw made her stop.

Zuko sat on the floor beside Aang's bier, his head bowed and his palms flat against the cool unyielding floor. His shoulders trembled. Aang remained still and unmoving, his hands folded over his glider, his eyes closed.

But Momo curled in the crook of his neck, his green eyes mournful as he took in the scene.

-----

Sound bounced off the wooden walls of the hold- the clanking of chains, the murmur of soft weeping, the rasping sound of coughs. The thick air swallowed her up and weighed down her lungs. Her usually athletic body, fine-tuned and well-trained, was sore and restless. She didn't know how long she had been trapped in that same positions- hours, days, or weeks.

She jostled the manacles on her wrists. "I can't," she said. "I can't stay here."

"There's no choice," the man next to her said dully. "We're never going to get off this ship."

She glanced up and down the rows of prisoners of war, their hands bound together and their heads bowed in brokenness. "The war is over. It has to be over."

The man laughed bitterly. "This war has gone on for a hundred years," he said. "My children and my children's children will fight it. It will never end."

She slunk against the wall, trying to erase the man's words from her thoughts. But they sank in anyway.

_What I wouldn't give now for one of Katara's silly speeches about hope_, she thought bitterly. She nearly laughed, but the sound died in her throat. The girl was probably dead by now, after all. Dead, or drying, or perhaps even chained herself in the hold of a warship just like this. The laugh faded, tightening her throat, and she began to cry instead.

-----

"I can't believe you wanted to hold the funeral before your coronation," Mai said.

"It seemed right," he said again. "He's the reason I'm here."

She held out his white robe. The hems were heavily embroidered in gold, marked in the traditional patterns of the Fire Nation. The clothing seemed familiar, but he couldn't place it. "Your uncle is the reason you're about to become the fire lord," she argued. "He's the one who abdicated."

"It's more than just that," he said. He slid his good arm through one sleeve. "I've changed so much. And Aang caused a lot of that."

"I still think you should have held your coronation first," Mai said. She glanced sideways to the floor. "Is Azula-"

"No," he said quickly. "She's not coming." He slid his sore shoulder through the other sleeve and winced. Mai's sharp eyes softened, and her narrow hands were surprisingly tender as she wrapped the robe closed and fastened the belt around his waist. "You'd better hurry. They're waiting on you." She kissed him lightly on the cheek.

Zuko walked down the hall and past the western garden. The slim columns were draped with black, but nevertheless the pond glimmered cheerfully in the sunlight. Turtleducks swam placidly, unaffected by the dim murmur of the crowd gathering on the palace steps just a short distance away. He pushed aside the memories that rose up. There would be time for that later.

He continued his lonely walk to the front steps of the palace. The full sleeves of his ceremonial robe swung with his motion. He remembered these patterns, but he remembered seeing them at eye level, mentally tracing them over and over his mind. The memory eased back- the sweet, acrid smell of funeral smoke, the touch of his sister's small cold hand in his, the sharp ache in his chest that threatened to cut him in two.

_My father wore these robes last_, he realized. _He wore them at Grandfather's funeral, the day my mother vanished._

It was an old grief, but nonetheless painful. But now there was something else to think about. He took a deep breath before opening the wide marble doors of the palace.

The avatar's body lay on the pyre. He was dressed in the robes of a full-fledged airbending monk, but his face was childlike and peaceful. There was no sign of the wound that had torn his body and drained his spirit away.

Iroh spoke to the crowd assembled. The red of the fire nation mingled freely with earthbending green and water blue for the first time in a hundred years. The people were silent, surprisingly still, as they listened to Iroh. He told the story Zuko already knew- Aang's story, from beginning to the end.

A little ways in front of him, almost hidden from the view of the crowd, stood Katara. Momo curled against her neck, burying his face in her shoulder. She looked pale. Her fingers restlessly toyed with the curl of Momo's tail, as if she felt a desperate need to touch a living being.

That old, hungry sense of frightened loneliness rose up in Zuko for the first time in a long time. Involuntarily his hand opened and closed, as if he had meant to take Katara's but missed. He stepped closer to her and placed his hand over her shoulder. Katara swayed, her knees trembling. Her hand crept up and her fingers latched onto his with a desperate, drowning grip. He squeezed her hand; she squeezed back even tighter.

The fire sages spoke over Aang's body. The words meant nothing. The flames licked against the pyre, trickling over the avatar. Tears streamed down Katara's cheeks, but her sobs were lost in the roar of the flames.

The crowd stared, awestruck. Some wept. Some held their children. Some looked at the blue and the red and the green of the people surrounding them and marveled that a child could have succeeded where the wise and the battle hungry had failed.

And the last airbender disappeared into the blue heart of the fire.

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**Author's Notes:**

I tried to flesh this out a little more. I hope it made it better...


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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"Fire Lord!"

It took him a moment to realize the servant was addressing him. He paused and turned around. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

The servant held out the scroll. "It's the list of those you wished to attend the meeting in your war room," he said.

"What's wrong with the list?" Zuko asked. The rules of the war room summons flashed through his head. For a moment he panicked. _I've been Fire Lord for a week, and I've already screwed up._

"General Xiao thinks a name was added by mistake," the servant said. "Katara of the Water Tribe."

"That's not a mistake," Zuko said. "I asked her to come."

"But your lordship…a woman in the war room?" the servant questioned. "And a foreign woman at that."

"Being foreign shouldn't matter anymore," Zuko said. "And besides…she's one of the reasons I'm calling this meeting."

The servant bowed and closed the scroll. "General Xiao said he will refuse to attend if a fore…if Katara of the Water Tribe is present."

Zuko swallowed hard before responding. "Then you may tell General Xiao I can simply find someone else to take his seat for him," he said, sounding calmer than he felt. The servant bowed again and left.

The war room was filled with low chatter, but the men silenced in Zuko's presence. They regarded him coolly, a mere seventeen-year-old boy surrounded grown men. "Well," he said. His throat felt tight. "I suppose we should get started."

He sat down in his father's vacant chair. The grown men stared him down. The unfamiliar weight of the fire lord's crown-his father's crown- bore down heavily on his head. "This place has been known as the war room," Zuko said. His voice sounded thin and lost in the high-ceilinged room. He cleared his throat and continued. "There will be no discussion of war here. Our nation is at peace, and I intend for it to remain this way." He flexed his fingers under the table, forcing some of his tension away. "Rebuilding and creating stronger nations is the best way to honor the memory of the avatar." The distrustful, uncertain looks that flashed around the room were unmistakable. The tension raced back into his body. "I am nothing like my father. I have no intentions of raising the Fire Nation high above the others."

Soft footsteps echoed in the hall. Katara approached, her eyes bruised and solemn. Her long waving hair was bundled in a thick braid at the nape of her neck, and she wore a white dress. "I'm sorry I'm late," she murmured.

"Fire Lord Zuko, why have you asked this water tribe girl to come?" a middle-aged commander demanded. "Women have never entered this room, and certainly not a water tribe child."

Katara took a step back. Zuko held out his hand and beckoned her to come closer. "I want you to put a face to the nameless people my father tried to destroy," he said. The confidence he had not felt earlier seeped into his voice. Seeing Katara reminded him of the past months- the fighting, the desperation, and the friends still missing. She stood beside him, wavering but bright-eyed.

"I want you to be able to look at her as I begin to rebuild this world," he said. "She knew the avatar better than anyone else still living. I want her to speak for him."

She looked at him then, her gaze bright but broken. He smiled at her, just a little bit. Katara slipped into the vacant chair next to him and folded her hands in her lap. No one said a word.

Zuko glanced down at the floor and fumbled a long scroll. "My initial plan is to send ambassadors to key locations in the Earth Kingdom and the Fire Nation," he said. "From there we will move to more remote areas, and then to the North and South poles. After the reports have been brought in, we will develop a plan to return the displaced to their homes and revitalize these areas."

No one reacted. Zuko set the unrolled scroll down and picked up another one, fiddling with the dge. "This is a more personal matter," he said. He set his lips as his eyes caught the names. "I have written down the names of people who have fought long and hard for peace, and are still missing." He handed the list to Katara and nodded.

Katara took the scroll with trembling hands. She stood slowly. "Teo of the Southern Air Temple." Her voice was quiet. The stone faces of the generals didn't change as she read the names. "Haru of Maka Village. Outa, known as the Duke; Yuri, known as Smellerbee; and Shan, known as Longshot, all of Krae Village." She took a deep breath before proceeding. "Suki of Kyoshi Island. Lady Toph Bei Fong of Gaoling. Hakoda…" Katara's fingers tighten on the curl of the scroll. "Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe. And…" She closed her eyes, her body rigid. "And Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe."

With a crisp rustle Katara closed the scroll. The generals and commanders remained silent. "I know that under my father's leadership you devoted yourselves to overtaking these people," Zuko said, his heart beating fast and fervent against his ribcage. "But our nation will not live like that anymore. I will see our people is at peace " He glanced down at the list of names. "This is how we will begin."

-----

"Don't move."

He couldn't if he wanted to. Instead, he struggled to open his eyes. Once his stiff, heavy eyelids opened, he gazed dizzily at his surroundings. The room was small, painted a soft muted shade of golden brown. The window at his eye level looked out over a garden that was green and gold with late summer sunshine. He turned his head to get a better look.

Pain instantly radiated through his body. His head pounded, his arms throbbed, his legs ached. The stabbing feeling twisted through him.

Light cool hands touched his face. "You were in an accident." The girl's voice was as calm and gentle as her touch. "You've been here for a month, drifting in and out of consciousness."

He forced himself to focus and look at her. She was young, and rather pretty, but the terrible solemnity in her large gray eyes made her seem far away. The girl smoothed her hands on the skirt of her plain white dress, then draped a soft damp cloth against his forehead. The coolness eased the fire that arced through him.  
He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a dry rasping noise. The girl picked up a cup from the bedside table and held a piece of ice against his lips. The cold dripped down his throat.

"What's your name?" the girl asked.

He stared at her. "My name?" he said hoarsely.

-----

Sunlight streamed the window and forced her eyes to open. Katara rolled over onto her side. She lay there for a while, staring into the sun. _I really should get up, _she thought.

The door cracked open. She froze, trying to decide whether to feign sleep or sit up. Whoever it was set something heavy on the ground with a large thunk. She heard him mutter under his breath.

She sat up. "Don't worry, I'm awake," she said.

The door opened further and Zuko poked his head, smiling sheepishly as a child caught stealing a cookie. "I was wondering," he said. "You do realize it's almost one o'clock."

Katara pushed her hair away from her eyes. "I haven't slept that long, have I?" she objected. She looked out the window. The leaves, tinged red and gold, danced in the early afternoon sunlight. "Apparently I did."

"Are you sure you're doing all right?" Zuko asked. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, leaving a smudge of dust.

Katara rested her arms on her bent knees. "I can't stop thinking," she said. "All I can think about is the last times I saw them."

"Who?" Zuko asked.

"All of them," she said. "Toph. Suki. Sokka."

"Aang?" he said quietly. She rested her chin on her forearms and said nothing.

"I'm doing everything I can to find them," he said.

"That doesn't mean you'll find them alive," she countered. "I can't remember what I said to them. I can't remember what they said. I can't even remember if I hugged my brother goodbye."

"You can't dwell on it," Zuko said quietly. "You have to keep going, and hope they'll come back soon."

"But what if-"

"Don't think about it," he said. He picked up a box near the door and set it on the foot of her bed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"I had every scroll on healing culled from the royal library," Zuko said. Katara scooted towards it on her knees and rummaged through the rolls. "I thought that since you're a healer, this might distract you. It has everything. Broken bones, viral illness, midwifery- almost every topic you can think of."

"Thank you," she said, surprised.

"You're welcome," he started to say, but a tall dark figure materialized in the doorway.

"Zuko, what are you doing here?" Mai asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I brought Katara some scrolls to read," he said. "And I came to tell her that there's a meeting in the war room in two hours." He turned to Katara. "There's a meeting in the war room in two hours, by the way."

"Thanks," she said dryly.

"Well, your uncle is looking for you," Mai said. She glanced warily from Katara to Zuko. "I think it's important."

"I'll see you later," Zuko said. Katara nodded. Mai looked at her, her eyes cold and sharp, and closed the bedroom door.

**Author's Notes:**

This is another chapter that got a little more fleshed out. One reviewer, Templar of Honor, pointed out that Zuko was acting too old and too confident. I tried to incorporate that; I just don't know how successful I was...


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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She sat alone by the open window, reading her scrolls. Late afternoon sunshine warmed her hair. The bustle of the teashop made a pleasant enough background.

A clay teacup clinked as it was set down beside her elbow. She looked up, startled. Iroh smiled down at her. "The best companion for an afternoon of reading is a warm drink, is it not?" he asked.

She tilted the handle of the cup. "I suppose," she said.

"May I join you?" he inquired. She nodded. He sat down next to her, settling into the chair with a deep sigh. "Owning my own teashop is wonderful, but more stressful than one would seem."

"Well, you are taking care of all those orphans too," she said.

The older man beamed. "They are a bit of a handful, aren't they?" he said. "I hope my nephew can find a good place to put them all. There are far too many for an old man like me to care for."

Katara sipped her tea. "He talked about it in the meeting yesterday," she said.

Iroh shook his head. "Sometimes I fear I have done him a disservice by giving up my claim to the throne," he said. "He has endured much already, and now he must bear the burden of a world falling apart. He is only seventeen, but he seems so much older." He reached over and tipped Katara's chin up. She looked back at him; his eyes were thoughtful and piercing. "You are the same," he said. "You have seen much."  
She pulled away. "I'll be fine," she said quietly.

"Your father and brother are missing still," Iroh said. "Where is your mother?"

"Dead."

Iroh leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Do not let sorrow harden your heart," he said softly. "Already I can see where grief has made you hard."

She rolled up the scroll. "I have to get back to the palace," she said softly. Katara left the teashop and blended into the crowds, the scroll tucked under her arm. Her thoughts blurred; all she could think about was the old man's all-seeing gaze.

-----

She sprawled out on her bed, luxuriating in the feel of the feather mattress and velvet blankets beneath her body. A princess, after all, must live in style.

Something clattered at her door. She bolted upright. "How dare you!" she bellowed. "Leave me in peace!"

The intruder paid her no heed. She reached for something to throw, but there was nothing. Instead, she flung herself over the bed, ignoring whoever it was. After all, she had no need of companionship. She was a princess.

"How are you feeling?"

She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder. "Fine, as always," she said. "When am I ever not in perfect health?"

"You don't…you don't look well."

She seethed. "I _am _well," she said. "I _am, _I _am, _I _am!_" She clenched her fists until her bitten-off fingernails made white half-moons on her fragile skin. The pain felt reassuring. Pain had been with her since childhood.

Father made her train. Father loved to make her train. And she loved it. The warmth of fire and the sting of lightning. Father loved to see her train- the toss of her hair, the fluidity of her movements, the sudden blue flare of the flames. She was everything he wanted in an heir. Smart. Shrewd. Brilliant. Lovely.

Father loved it. Father loved _me_. Father certainly loved me more than _him._ He's nothing next to me. I can end him with a mere snap of my fingers. The throne is mine. No question at all.

When Father returns from killing the avatar, he will be so pleased. I will be the Fire Lord- the first female Fire Lord. None of the Fire Lady nonsense. I need no consort. I need no one. I will rule, alone.

"Are you all right?"

She screamed. "Go away! Go away! I'm waiting for my father!"

The intruder crept away. The door closed. She heard the bar crash down. She howled at the indignity of her capture, and tore through the velvet that covered the bed.

-----

Mai stormed down the hallway and banged open the door. "How could you be so stupid?" she demanded.

Ty Lee huddled against the balcony railing. She buried her face in her crossed arms. Mai strode over to her in a few quick steps, grabbed Ty Lee by the chin, and yanked her to her feet. "How could you?" she said.

Ty Lee stood there while Mai held her by the chin. Tears made bright tracks down her cheeks. "I had to," she sobbed. "I had to go see her."

Mai let go, throwing the usually nimble girl off balance. "She locked us in jail," she seethed. "She would have killed us if she could."

"Mai, she's been our friend since we were kids at school," Ty Lee said. She rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. "And she's been trapped in that asylum for two months without anyone visiting her."

"So you feel sorry for her," Mai said. She laughed mirthlessly. "Of course you feel sorry for her. The crazy girl who tried to kill us."

"What do you mean, 'of course'?" Ty Lee said. "At least I have some sort of compassion for her. You don't even love your boyfriend."

Mai froze. "What did you say?" she said.

"You don't care about anyone but yourself," Ty Lee said in a low, uncharacteristically solemn voice. Her lovely eyes could shatter glass. "Your boyfriend is trying to rule our country all on his own, and all you can care about is that he's not spending enough time with you."

Mai tossed her head. "I don't care if he spends time with me," she said, her cheeks blazing.

"Of course you do," Ty Lee snapped. "I've seen you. I've seen glaring at that Water Tribe girl like you could killher. It doesn't matter to you that she's been separated from her family and Zuko's the only person she really knows anymore. All you can think about is that she's trying to steal your boyfriend."

"You haven't seen how she looks at him," Mai said without thinking.

Ty Lee turned slowly, her eyes glittering sharply in mysterious victory. "How petty," she said quietly.

Mai slunk against the wall. Ty Lee walked past her lightly. "What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"I'm leaving," Ty Lee said.

"Leaving?" Mai said. Something hard twisted in the pit of her stomach as she watched the slender acrobat close the lid of her trunk. "Leaving for where?"

"Home."

"You hate your home."

Ty Lee locked the trunk. "At least they're family," she said. "I'd rather be lost with my family than be lost here any day."

She walked towards the door. Mai watched her, a thousand words rising unbidden to her tongue and fading away before she could say them. "You little fool," she finally said.

But Ty Lee left.

-

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**Author's Notes:  
**

This chapter is all brand new, after hearing some feedback that everything was too short and too choppy. I totally agreed, but I was too lazy to fix it. At least, until now...

Azula fascinates me. Maybe I'll write a whole story just about that poor messed up kid.

I also wanted to delve a little bit into Mai, since I wanted her to be a fairly important character in this story but I hadn't done much with her yet. I also realized that in all of the writing I had done, I had never mentioned Ty Lee. I put the pieces together, and this chapter materialized.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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_I really dislike these meetings, _he thought. _Why do I keep calling them?_

The stone-faced parliament stared back at him with the cool, even gaze of a gargoyle. Zuko did his best to look calm and in control. Katara sat to his right, her eyes focusing on the grain of the table.

"Efforts are being made to bring the armies back," he said. "Already our forces are withdrawing from the colonies on our farthest borders. The men should return within the next few months."

"What's going to happen to them next?" a commander asked.

"It's time they returned to their own families and their own lives," he said.

"Their life _is _the army," the commander argued. "Some of these men have been fighting since they were teenagers. What life are they returning to?"

Zuko cleared his throat. "I have to downsize the army," he said. "We don't need a massive offensive force anymore."

The commander leaned back. "These men have devoted their lives to the army," he scoffed. "Now you're reducing them to civilians."

"But there's no reason to keep them as an offensive force," Zuko said.

"What about the faction?" a captain argued. "Enemies are mobilizing to take you from the throne, and you're taking apart the army."

"I can protect myself," Zuko said.

"Yourself, possibly," the captain said. "What about your city? What about your people? Did your years in exile made you conveniently forget about us, about what we went through under your father's tyranny?"

"No one understands my father more than I do," Zuko said. "Believe me, I know." He unconsciously traced the ridges of his scar.

"Then why aren't you doing anything about it?" the captain challenged.

Zuko slammed his fist onto the table. "Fine!" he barked. "I won't downsize the military. Will that make you happy?"

He turned away, dragging his hands through his hair and wishing with all his might that he could go back and react like a fire lord instead of an angry kid. Katara caught his eye. She nodded slightly towards him. He took a deep breath. "I'll divide the army into smaller squadrons," he said, slowly and evenly. "They'll be based along our borders. Perhaps this will be a better compromise."

The captain settled back, still scowling, but he said nothing. Zuko sat down slowly and unrolled the scroll. "We've reopened negotiations with Ba Sing Se," he said. "They're willing to send an ambassador to discuss a new trade agreement."

He dug his knuckles into his left eye. He hated talking about trade. All those useless numbers and statistics. It made his head ache.

The big double doors broke open. Zuko stood up. "What on earth is-"

"Your lordship," the servant gasped. "There are some people here…the people you were searching for."

Katara leaped to her feet and ran down the hall. Zuko glanced from his cabinet to Katara and back to the cabinet.

"Meeting adjourned," he said, and he raced after her.

-----

She jerked up, gasping for breath. Another girl moaned. "She did it again," she complained.

She huddled against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. One of the older girls scooted towards her. "You've got to stop that," she said quietly. "You've woken up screaming every night. We need to get some sleep."

"I can't help it," she spat through her teeth. "I don't pick what I dream about."

"Look, I don't care what you dream," the older girl said. "I only care if you wake us up. So just deal with it. We're all in the same predicament as you."

She dug her broken fingernails into her knees. "But I'm friends with the avatar," she argued. "When my friends find out where I am, they're all going to pay."

"But the avatar's dead," the older girl objected.

She froze. "No, he's not."

"Yes, he is," the girl argued. "Mei Lin said her customer was talking about it. How the avatar died closing Fire Lord Ozai's chakra. He can't bend anymore. I didn't even think that-"

"Aang can't be dead," she whispered.

The girl patted her on the shoulder. "Just get some sleep," she said, not unkindly. "There's work tomorrow night. You'd better get your rest."

Mechanically she laid down on her thin pallet and pulled the sheet over her head. Around her the other girls settled into sleep, their breathing deep and even. She ran her fingers over the thinly woven cloth. Her eyes burned, but she couldn't cry.

-----

Katara's heart leaped in her throat as she skidded to a stop. "Dad," she whispered.

Hakoda caught her tightly in his arms. "I've looked for you everywhere," he said. He raked his fingers through her long thick hair. "I looked…I didn't think you'd be here. It wasn't until yesterday that I even knew…" He pulled back, holding her tightly by the shoulders. "Where's your brother? Is he with you?"

Katara swiped at the tears that welled up in the corners of her eyes. "No," she said. "I thought he was with you."

"I haven't seen him since we separated," Hakoda said. He brushed tears away from his daughter's cheeks. "Don't worry. We'll find him."

Katara nodded, but her heart sank. She stepped back and looked at the others. "I'm glad you're all right," she said. Once their faces registered she smiled in genuine relief.

"We were stuck in the outskirts of the city for awhile," Haru explained. His long hair was scraggly, but he seemed relaxed. "We didn't have the right papers, but when Zuko put out the list of names, they let us in."

Teo rubbed his temple. "I'm just glad to be out of the refugee camp," he said.

"Have you seen your father?" Katara asked.

"He and my father went looking for some other people from our villages," Haru said. "That way we can all go back home together."

The tense furrows in Hakoda's forehead disappeared. "Home," he murmured.

"Is there any news from Jet's gang?" Katara pressed.

Haru and Teo both glanced at the ground. "Come on out," Haru coaxed.

The Duke peered out from behind Teo's chair. "He's all that's left," Teo said quietly. "Pipsqueak…Longshot…Smellerbee…they were all killed."

Katara held out her arm. The little boy pressed his face against her hip, his fingers digging into the fabric of her skirt. "You're safe now, Outa," she said. "And you still have a family. Don't worry."

He burst into tears. Katara sat down on the floor in the middle of the hall, disregarding the curious stares of the nobles and courtiers milling about. Outa buried his face in her lap, sobbing. Katara stroked his hair away from his forehead the same way she had comforted Sokka when they were children, the same way she used to comfort Aang. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she pressed her forehead against the nine-year-old's.

-

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**Author's Notes:**

This is a short chapter, but now I'm caught up again. And hopefully from now on this story will be better.

Stay tuned! There's more to come.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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Katara leaned against her father's knee. The silence between them felt comfortable, peaceful. He stroked her thick hair away from her forehead. "You know, you look so much like your mother did at this age," Hakoda said.

Katara watched the flames in the fireplace. "What was she like?" she asked.

Hakoda was quiet for a moment. "She was smart," he said at last. "She knew what she wanted from life." He twined a lock of her hair around his finger. "Passionate. Devoted. Independent." He half-laughed. "Pig-headed."

"Sokka calls me that," Katara mused. Her father's fingers were soothing and familiar against her hair after her long loneliness. She thought through her next sentence and decided to say it anyway. "Do you know he doesn't remember Mom anymore? He just…when he thinks of her, he sees me."

He said nothing for a moment. She regretted her words.

"I don't blame him," he said. "You've been a mother to him since Kya died." His hand dropped from her hair. "You were both so young when she died. I still remember when you came running to me, telling me that a soldier was in our house."

"I remember that you wouldn't let me and Sokka come in," she said. "We had to stay outside."

"There was so much blood," he said simply. "I couldn't let you two in there. I couldn't let you see her like that."

"Whenever I think of her, I remember that morning," Katara said. "Sokka was begging her to let us play in the cove, and she kept saying no. But she was only teasing. I remember when she laughed…but I can't remember what she looks like anymore."

"Look in a mirror," Hakoda smiled.

Katara stared into the fire. "Am I going to forget what Sokka looks like?" she whispered.

Hakoda lifted her onto his lap and held her fiercely. Katara buried her face in her father's shoulder as he rocked her the way he did when she was only a child.

-----

The ship pitched and rolled with the waves. The sounds of quiet crying and soft retching surrounded her. The storm had been going on for a week now, leaving them trapped below deck. _Not that they let us up for long when the weather's nice_, she thought.

She draped her manacled wrists over her knees. _I wish I could see_, she thought fervently. Her senses were numb, completely numb. Her head pounded.

The woman on her left seemed to be staring straight ahead, lost in her own private thoughts.

The man chained on her right slept fitfully. His arm fell against her side, and she shifted to shake the weight away. She was surrounded by people- men and women; Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe, and Fire Nation- and yet she was left alone.

_I wonder if anyone's looking for me, _she thought. Her chains jangled as she wrapped her arms protectively around her thinning, aching body; the harsh clanking blended with the crashing of the waves above her head. _But I don't think anyone would ever think to look for me here._

-----

Zuko surveyed the spacious tea shop. "It looks good, Uncle," he commented.

"I know," Iroh beamed happily. He bustled over to the table and poured hot water into each of their cups. "It's even better than the old one, back in Ba Sing Se."

"It's a clever idea to turn the upstairs into a refugee children's shelter," Hakoda commented.

Zuko glanced over his shoulder. Katara sat in the corner of the tea shop, with the Duke- _Outa, he's called Outa again_, he remembered- curled up under her arm. Teo sat beside them, cutting shapes out of a folded piece of parchment. "It's a good way to distract Katara," he said quietly.

"That little boy hasn't left my daughter's side since we got in the city," Hakoda said.

Teo set down the scissors, brushing the trimmed scraps off his knees, and unfolded the parchment, revealing a chain of little figures linked together. The younger boy smiled, but didn't budge from Katara's protective arm. "So many have been left as orphans," Iroh said. "There's a great deal of room here, but I can only hold so much."

"We'll figure out a way," Zuko said. A little girl in a green dress skipped up to Outa and held out her hand. Outa looked up at Katara uncertainly. When she nodded Outa slid off Katara's knees and followed the little girl out to the courtyard. The little girl picked up a handful of crisp fallen leaves and tossed them in the air. Outa frowned and grabbed enough to throw at her. She shrieked and dashed away.

"Have you begun looking for possible locations?" Iroh asked.

"Possible locations for what?" Katara asked. She smoothed her green apron as she walked over to them.

"For a permanent children's shelter," Zuko said.

Iroh set the tea things on a tray. "Have you thought about asking the Isauran sisters?"

"Who are they?" Katara asked.

"An old order of nuns," he explained. "They are based on the eastern border of the Earth Kingdom. You would do well to ask for their help."

The kitchen doors swung back and forth as the little girl ran in. "Katara, Katara!" she called.

Katara knelt down. "What is it, Jia?" she asked.

Jia rubbed her knuckles in her eyes. "Outa bit me," she complained.

"He bit you?" Katara repeated. "Why, that wasn't very nice." Jia nodded, scowling, and held out her finger. Katara kissed it and then tickled the little girl until she giggled. Katara smiled.

Zuko caught the bitter look on Hakoda's face as he watched his daughter play with the child. It was the first time in the two months since Aang's death that Katara had smiled like this-joyfully, in pure abandon. The little girl giggled and flung her arms around Katara's neck.

-----

"How are you feeling today?"

She clutched the velvet blanket around herself. "Very well," she said. "And you?"

"I'm well."

The velvet blanket offered little warmth. She shivered in spite of herself. "Would you care to sit down?"

She did so, placing her hands heavily on the arms of the chair. "You were in my room last night," she said.

"I was finishing some paperwork and thought I would check in on you. You were talking in your sleep." He shifted in his chair, tapping his pen against the parchment. Tap…tap…tap…it was a terrible metronome. He leaned forward. "Tell me…do you dream often?"

"Do you?" she asked quietly.

He smiled, in almost grandfatherly way. "I'm asking the questions here," he said. She bristled under his condescending gaze. "Do you dream often?"

"Do you?"

"Princess…"

"I'll answer if you answer," she said.

He sighed. "All right," he said. "Do you dream often?"

"Yes. Do you?"

"Yes. Do you have a special dream?"

"No," she lied quietly. "Do you?"

"No." He tapped the pen against the chair. "What is 'fee'?"

She froze. "What?"

"You were repeating it in your sleep. You seemed quite agitated. What does it mean?"

_Fee…fee…fee…_

"I know you're having one of your lucid days," he pressed. "Can you answer me?"

_Phoenix. Phoenix. Phoenix King._

"Princess?"

_The crackle of the torches. The glimmer of the crown upon his head. The last shreds of my sanity falling away as my father's wildest dreams began to realize, and I was no longer a necessary part of his life._

"We're done for today," she said, her voice clipped and tight. She left the office, her head held high despite her plain clothes and her tattered hair, and the doctor did not stop her.

-----

Zuko unfolded the scroll cautiously. The yellowed edges crackled. He scanned the long page, gingerly pressing down the curling edges. Age left the inked writing brown and faded. "No one's read this in years," he said aloud, breaking the heavy silence.

"No one's read what?"

He started, nearly tearing the fragile paper. "Mai?" He squinted out of his good eye. "Is that you?"

"Who else would it be?" she said, gliding into the torchlight. She was dressed in a simple dark red dress, with her hair caught back with a narrow black ribbon "Why are you reading dirty old papers in the middle of the night?"

"Why are you up and walking around in the middle of the night?" he asked. "You ought to be sleeping."

"So should you," she retorted. She crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Go to bed."

He shook his head absently. "I have too much work to do," he said.

"What kind of work?" she asked.

He smoothed the scroll. "Reopening the trade routes, mostly," he said. "I'm trying to figure out what treaties we used to have, back before…you know. Before my ancestors ruined it all."

"Why are you staying up late working on that? You hate working on trade," she said.

"Because I kept putting it off," he said. He rubbed his forehead. "I'd do it tomorrow, but I have other things to do."

She tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Like our picnic," she said.

"Our what?"

She dropped her hand. "Don't tell me you forgot," she said.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Uncle wants me to start the inquiries to the Isauran abbey about the shelter tomorrow morning," he said, perplexed.

"Of course it is," Mai said, rolling her eyes. "It's always a shelter, or victim reparations, or refugee transportation. That's all you have time for now."

He blinked. "What are you trying to say?" he said.

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Her dark eyes narrowed. "Nothing," she said, and she stalked away, disappearing beyond the pools of torchlight.

-----

"Why can't I move my arm?" he rasped.

"You tore several muscles," she explained in her calm gentle voice. "Your tendons and ligaments snapped like strings."

He stared at the thick white layer of bandages around his right arm. "What about my leg?" he pressed. He tried to struggle into a sitting position, but his body refused to obey.

"You broke it," she said. She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Hold still, hold still. You're not helping anything."

He focused on the old-fashioned lantern suspended from the ceiling, willing the room to stop spinning. She sat down on the edge of his bed and pressed her cool, slender hand to his forehead. "Your fever is down a little bit. That's good," she said.

He watched her pour a cup of water from the pitcher on the side table. She held it to his lips and he drank slowly. When he was finished she stood up carefully, so as not to jostle him, and placed the cup back on the table. Her knee-length white dress swished softly against her legs; the tasseled edges of her golden sash brushed against the hem. She smiled when she realized he was watching her, her amber eyes lighting.

He stared dully around the light stucco walls. "When can I get up?" he asked.

"Not for a while," she said. She touched her fingertips against the still-healing cut behind his ear. "Can you remember anything yet? Anything at all?"

He shook his head, then closed his eyes against the sudden wave of dizziness. Distantly he felt the girl press a cool cloth against his forehead, and he succumbed to the dark sleep tugging at the edges of his vision.

-----

"Come in," Zuko said, setting down his pen and rubbing his forehead.

Katara peeked around the door. "Your uncle said you'd probably still be awake," she said. "He wanted me to bring you some tea."

"Thanks," Zuko said. He moved his papers as Katara set down the steaming teapot and a cup.

"It's awfully late," she said. "What's so important that you have to stay up and do paperwork?"

"The children's shelter in Uncle's tea shop is already full," Zuko said. "He was hoping for just a few, but there's already dozen living there, and more will probably show up. We need to find a place to send all these orphans, and soon."

Katara poured him a cup of tea. "Besides, this city is no place to grow up alone," she said. "They need room to play."

Zuko sipped the hot peach black tea. "Like the eastern plains in the Earth Kingdom?" he suggested.

"My father told me about your idea," she said. She sat down on the edge of his desk, holding her own cup of tea. "Sending the children out there would be a good idea. Especially if any of them are benders. There would be plenty of room, especially for…" Her voice faltered. "For earthbenders."

Zuko glanced at her over the rim of his cup. "I miss her too," he said quietly.

"I miss them all," Katara said, running her fingers along the sides of the cup. "But Toph and Sokka the most." She still hadn't taken a sip of her tea. "I just can't…I just can't think of them as being gone."

"They're not gone," Zuko said fiercely. "We'll get them back."

"But it's been almost three months since Aang…since you became Fire Lord," Katara said. She sighed. "I don't think we're ever going to find them."

"What happened to all your hope?" Zuko said. He grinned. "You're famous for it. You and your overflowing hope."

"I don't want to talk about it," she said. She looked away from him, her narrow gaze boring a hole through the window. "If they were still alive, they would have found their way here already."

"It took Haru and Teo and your father a while to get here," Zuko argued. "And they were right on the borders of the city."

"But this is Sokka and Toph and Suki we're talking about," Katara shot back.

"The last time you were separated from Suki it was because she was in prison, and she was missing for months," Zuko pointed out. "Maybe they've been arrested, or injured." He ran his hand through his hair. "Look, the last thing we heard about them was that they took down a bunch of war balloons."

"So?" Katara said.

"So maybe the war balloon they were on crashed," Zuko said. "Maybe one of them is hurt and they can't travel. They're probably all together somewhere."

Katara's blue eyes looked dark and hollow. "They're not coming back," she said quietly.

"They're definitely not if you think like that," Zuko said. "What happened to your hope?"

Katara abruptly slammed her teacup against the wall. Zuko jumped back; scalding tea splashed over his papers and his hand. "Screw it," she said through her teeth. "Being an optimist isn't going to bring my brother back alive."

She stalked out of his room. He stared at the pearly shards of the cup and the dark stains spreading on the wall, and he let her disappear down the hallway.

-

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**Author's Notes:**

I'm really trying to develop this story. Is it working? What can I do to improve it?

The scene between Azula and the doctor was inspired by the play Equus by Peter Schaeffer. I'm currently playing the role of Dora Strang, Alan's mother. The play has really gotten under my skin, and I based the Azula scene from Scene 8. I really recommend reading the script.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

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Katara pulled her hair over her shoulder. Her reflection in the pond rippled with the motion of the turtleducks. The mother duck waddled onto the bank, the babies following close behind. The smallest one paused, tilting his head in an almost curious manner, as he passed by.

"I haven't gotten anything for you to eat, little one," she murmured, her lips dry and cracked. She trailed the tip of her finger along the top of the duckling's fuzzy head; it let out an alarmed squawk and waddled away to catch up with the rest of the brood.

Katara rested her chin on her knees and watched the morning sun make golden lines across the surface of the pond. Her head buzzed with exhaustion, but her eyes were wide awake and burning. Tossing and turning in her bed had yielded no sleep, and even though her legs were stiff and sore from sitting for so long, she didn't want to move.

A dark shadow appeared behind her; she frowned. "What are you doing out here?" Mai asked.

"Nothing," Katara said. She dipped her finger in the water and watched the drops dance, unsmiling.

"It's freezing out here," Mai said. "Shouldn't you go inside?"

"I grew up in the snow. This is nothing," Katara said. "Why aren't you inside?"

"Zuko sent a maid to bring you breakfast and she said you weren't in your room," Mai said. She tapped her foot impatiently in the cold hard mud of the bank. "He's looking for you."  
"Tell him I'll come in," she said, almost dreamily.

"He's the Fire Lord." Katara could hear the scowl in Mai's voice. "You don't tell him when you're coming. You come when he tells you."

"He's not the Fire Lord to me, he's just Zuko," Katara said. She hugged her knees and stared at the surface of the pond, gazing into the clear and shallow depths. "He's my friend."

Mai abruptly sat down beside her, ignoring the mud of the embankment. "Really," she said. "You're best friends now?"

"Not best friends," Katara said. She closed her eyes. "He's the only one I have here."

"What about your father?" Mai said. "What about the earthbender, and the boy in the wheelchair?"

"Haru and Teo are my friends," she said. "And I love my father, but…but none of them know what it was like."

"What?" Mai insisted.

"They weren't there when we were traveling together," Katara said. "When we would spend the days traveling, and the nights camping. When Sokka would set up the tents and I would cook dinner." She smiled. "Whether or not Toph tried to help." Her vision blurred as she stared across the garden. "And Aang…when Aang was still…" She coughed and rested her forehead on her arms. "Zuko was there for that last summer. I remember him…making faces at Sokka's jokes and helping me wash dishes and carrying Toph when she was too sleepy to walk."

Mai stared dourly into the cool water. "I remember when Zuko would sit here with his mother," she said. "They would sit here for hours, talking and laughing and feeding the turtleducks together."

Katara said nothing. She closed her eyes again.

"I remember a lot of things about Zuko when he was little," she said. "I've known him since we were children. You've known him for…for what? A few months? A year?"

Katara frowned. "Why does that matter?" she said, twisting around so she could see Mai.

The dark haired girl clenched her fists, her face white and her lips thin and set. She stood up quickly. "It matters to me," she said in a low, tight voice. "I know him. I've always known him. And I don't understand how you can just waltz in here and…and…"

Mai bit her lip, turned sharply, and walked away. Katara stared into the rippling pond, her thoughts bubbling like the circles in the water.

-----

The slick, cheap silk rubbed against her skin and her wide sash constricted her ribs. Her hair tickled her bare shoulders, making her shiver. Around her the air was thick with the smells of burning incense, diluted rosewater, and spilled alcohol. She huddled behind the doorway, pulling the skimpy neckline of her dress over her breasts.

"There you are," the madam said. She grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into the room; she slipped and skidded across the rough floors in her satin slippers. "You can't hide back there, they're asking for you."

"I don't care," she said through her teeth.

The madam gave her a fierce shake, making her jaw rattle and the chipped enamel flower pinned to her hair click. "You haven't got an opinion," she said. "This is your job, and you're going to do your job, or else you're going to regret it."

The madam pushed her into the room. She wobbled at the sudden change in movement, trying to catch her balance. The men around her roared with laughter. "Here she is," the madam said. "You wanted this one, right?"

A man's large callused hand closed on her shoulder. She nearly jerked back, but lost her footing. "She's the youngest, isn't she?" he said. His dirty finger traced her cheek and she jerked away. He laughed.

"Out of the ones we've got here," the madam said. "Of course, none of our girls are old. Why, the oldest one we have is only twenty-five. Only the best girls work here."

"Still, I like 'em young," he said. He dragged her onto his lap. Her skin burned at his touch. "The younger they are, the less likely they are to run off on you. Too scared."

At that remark she snarled behind her gritted teeth and lunged towards the floor. He only laughed and pulled her back. "You're not going to run away," he said, stroking her bare knee. A tin cup was pressed into her hand. "Drink some of that. You'll like it."

She glared. He wrenched the cup from her fingers and shoved it against her mouth. Searing sour liquid streamed past her lips and down her throat; she tried to shove his hand away, biting down hard on her tongue as she choked. He laughed. "It's good, isn't it?" he said.

The cheap wine mixed with blood dripped from the corner of her mouth and soaked into the meager bodice of her dress. His hands were allowed to travel wherever they pleased, and she sank into a dull, numb trance.

-----

Zuko unfurled the scroll. "We've received more news about the faction," he said. "Our intelligence reports that about a hundred and fifty Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation nobles comprise the group. They've lost everything since my father…" He cleared his throat. "Since I became Fire Lord."

He half wished for someone to speak against him, just to have some kind of reaction. Just as they did during every other meeting of the war council, the members of his parliament stared at him with cool, composed faces. Nothing could manage to shake them up.

He glanced at the empty chair to his right. Katara hadn't shown up. He hadn't even seen her lately. _I wonder where she is,_ he thought, but he pushed the thought away and tried to regain focus.

"Their goal is to gain enough support that they can stage a coup and free my…free the former fire lord," he said. "They want to set him back on the throne."

His knee shook. He set his teeth and continued.

"The faction is currently controlling several small villages towards the border," he said. "Their ventures are purveyed by hired mercenaries."

"Where are they finding these mercenaries?" a captain in his late twenties inquired. Zuko nearly sagged in relief, but stopped in time.

"The faction leaders hire them from all over," he said. "It's expensive, but it seems they've found a way to fund it."

"How?" the captain asked. He leaned forward in his chair, the only interested one in the entire parliament.

"A combination of prostitution and slave trade," Zuko said. "They kidnap people from the nearby villages. It doesn't matter who they are- Earth Kingdom, Water Tribe. Even Fire Nation. They kidnap them and sell them at auction for astronomical prices."

"Fire Nation selling Fire Nation?" a commander said skeptically.

"That's what we've been told," Zuko said. "Intelligence is trying to pin down the date of the next auction. If we can infiltrate that, hopefully we can stop the faction from progressing any further." He cleared his throat. "The regiments that were stationed at the colonies have been moved to the borders. They're on strict alert to track down members of the faction."

The captain settled back in his chair. Zuko looked down at the notes in his hand and squinted. "I suppose that covers everything for today," he said, suppressing a sigh.

"Just a moment, Fire Lord," a colonel interrupted.

Zuko rubbed his left eye. "Yes, Colonel Xhao?" he said.

The burly man leaned on his elbows. "With all this going on," he said, "with enemies challenging your throne and your people lost after years of oppression, you choose to focus your efforts on reparations and orphan shelters?"

Zuko's stomach twisted. "Well, I'm working on both," he stammered. "And it's not just Earth Kingdom and Water Tribe children. There's Fire Nation children left all over the country without parents. I think that-"

"You're young, Fire Lord," the colonel said. "You obviously don't understand that a ruler is either on the offensive, or he is defending himself. You should be building a new army, a stronger army. Show these rebels who's the real leader."

Zuko clenched his fists. "I know how to defend myself," he said quietly.

"But why are you choosing to focus on inconsequential things like shelters?" the colonel persisted. "Why are you trying to get the other nations on our side?"

"We just spent a hundred years fighting these people," Zuko argued. "It's crucial that we reconstruct our relationships with our new allies. I'm reopening trade routes, I'm-"

The colonel leaned back in his chair. "You're just a boy," he said irritably. "A boy sent to do a man's work."

"I'm working as hard as I can," Zuko shouted. "What more can you ask of me?"

The men sat in silence.

He grunted in frustration and dropped his hands to the table. "The representative from the Isauran order will be here within the next few weeks," he said quietly. "I expect you to listen. Whether or not you approve is inconsequential."

The silence lingered. He left, closing the door tightly behind him.

-----

She stared out the window, standing on her tiptoes. The landscape was at her eyelevel; she felt small and lost. The grass rolled in front of her as far as her eyes could see- an endless sea of green. The blades blurred.

The waves roiled ahead of her. Where is he? Where is the avatar? I must find him before anyone else does. I must bring him before my father. It is what my father wishes. I want, all I want is to please my father.

"Don't be so hard on yourself, dear one."

My mother's voice grated on my nerves. I pinched the soft underside of my knee, grinding my sharpened teeth into my lips.

"Why can't you be happy?" she said in the same gentle, mournful tones she always used around me. "Why can't you smile and laugh and play like the other girls your age?"

"I'm not six anymore," I spat.

She just stared at me with her sweet eyes, and I couldn't stand it any longer.

She grabbed for something, anything that she could throw, but there was nothing there. With a desperate grinding groan she hurled her fists against the lead-lined panes of the window, leaving dark marks on her hands and red streaks on the glass.

-----

Zuko rubbed his scarred eye. He closed his good eye experimentally; the pages beneath him faded into a dark blurry splotch. He sighed heavily. The healer gave him only a few more years of sight in that eye, and who knew how long he would have his hearing in his damaged ear.

"Are you still awake?"

He nearly dropped his brush. "Mai," he sighed. "You have got to stop scaring me like that."

She glided towards him, her white nightdress flowing around her. "I'll stop when you start going to sleep before two in the morning," she said. "What are you doing now?"

"I have to get this letter out," he said. He picked up the writing brush again. "The Isauran abbey is only a few days' ride from the city. With any luck they should have a representative here by the end of the week."

Mai put her hands on his shoulders. He patted her right hand absentmindedly and kept writing. She pried the pen away. "You need to sleep," she said, her voice more gentle than usual. "You look so tired."

He slumped in his chair. "I am tired," he admitted.

"Tired enough to lose your temper in the war room?"

His head drooped. "You heard?"

"The whole palace knows," she said. "If you got enough sleep and stopped going to those stupid councils all the time, maybe you could keep a grip." She rubbed her thumbs against the base of his neck. "Go to bed now."

"I just need to get this letter written so I can send it out in the morning," he said.

"Zuko-"

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it absently. "I'll go to sleep," he promised. "Right after I'm finished."

"Why can't you finish it in the morning?" she suggested.

"Can't," he said. "I have a meeting, and then we're seeing Haru and the others off." He paused. "Katara's asleep, isn't she? She should be resting. Tomorrow's going to be hard for her."

Mai frowned. "I don't know," she said. "I'm your girlfriend, not her babysitter."

"What are you trying to say?" he said.

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Katara's fine. Just finish your letter and go to bed."

She pulled away and left the room. He continued writing, but the next thing he knew he was slouching at his desk, squinting at the completed letter in pale late-autumn sunlight. Briefly he entertained the notion of crawling into bed and sleeping for days, but there was yet another meeting in the war room in an hour. Zuko sat up slowly and stretched his kinked muscles.

-----

She leaned against the back wall and took a deep, shuddering breath. He was finally asleep, albeit fitfully. _Once his fever breaks, he should recover, _she thought. _He'll be all right._

She closed her eyes. Only that morning they had buried one of her other patients, a young man who could scarcely be older than the boy sleeping in the next room. His internal injuries were just too much.

She rubbed her forehead. _I need to stop thinking about my patients all the time_, she thought.

Light footsteps echoed down the hall. She looked up. "Hello, Reverend Mother," she said.

The mother superior smiled slightly. "I was looking for you," she said.

She straightened up and smoothed the skirt of her dress. "You picked a good time," she said. "He just fell asleep. What would you like me to do?"

The mother superior held out a small scroll. She unrolled it and skimmed the cramped writing inside. "This just arrived," she said. "The fire lord has asked for a representative from our order to discuss the possibility of funding an orphans' shelter."

"That would be wonderful," she said. "We really could…" Her voice trailed off. "A representative?"

"I want you to go," the mother superior said.

She hastily rerolled the scroll. "Thank you, but I can't," she said. "You should send one of the sisters. I'm just a postulant, after all, and-"

The mother superior cupped her cheeks in her hands. "You have lived here in the abbey longer than some of the sisters," she said. "You understand our tenets and our beliefs. And you're a war orphan yourself. Who better to represent us?"

"I haven't left the abbey in a long time," she said softly. "What am I supposed to do?"

The mother superior smiled. Her smiles were always the same- quiet, gentle, and subdued. "The fire lord is only a young man," she said. "I've heard he's hot-headed, but kind. Tell him what you know, and what you can do. He'll listen to you."

She wanted to argue, but she knew it was useless. "Yes, Reverend Mother," she said quietly.

----

"You're sure you have to leave?" Katara said asked for the umpteenth time.

"We have to," Haru said patiently. "My parents are waiting for me back in the village. It's time to start rebuilding."

"But why do you have to take Outa?" Katara asked.

Haru glanced back. Outa sat besides Teo's wheelchair, amiably spinning the front wheel while Teo grinned at him. "My mother says the best place for him is with a family," he said. "She insisted in her letter that I needed to bring him home, and my father agreed. And you don't mess with my parents when they make up their minds."

Hakoda squeezed his daughter's shoulder. "It's for the best," he said.

"But Zuko's talking to the Isauran abbey," she protested. "They're sending a liaison to talk about starting the children's shelter."

"Katara," Hakoda warned. "I know you're attached to him, but it would be better for him to live in a real house with a real family. Think of what's best for him."

Katara' shoulders slumped. "I know," she mumbled. "I just…I don't want to be left alone again."

Teo wheeled over to them, Outa trotting along behind him. "I'll still be here," he offered. "My father doesn't want me to come back until the temple's been rebuilt." He grinned ruefully. "It's a little hard to ride through all the rubble."

Katara half smiled. "I'm glad," she said. She blinked. "Well, not glad that you can't get around, just glad that you're going to be here."

"I know what you mean," Teo said. He ruffled Outa's dark hair. "Personally, I'm just glad that this one will have a big brother to look after him."

Katara stiffened. The image of a little girl with dark braids tearing after a round-cheeked boy with a boomerang in hand rose in her mind, and it took all the self control in her body to flash a frozen smile in Teo's direction.

-

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**Author's Note:**

This is probably one of the longest chapters I've ever written...

Things are starting to fall into place. I'm pretty excited!

Please tell me what you think of this story. I'm up for any constructive criticism you have.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Avatar: The Last Airbender belongs to Bryke and Nickelodeon, not me.

-

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Katara hid the letter in her sleeve and walked through the courtyard. A few servants bowed respectfully as she passed, but most of them ignored her. After all, she was still Water Tribe.

The courier was cinching the saddle of his ostrich horse as she approached. "I need you to deliver this for me," she said.

"Where am I taking it?" he said.

"It's for Kanna of the Southern Water Tribe," she said.

He picked it up and shoved it into his pack. "It'll take a long time to travel there," he warned her. "There's a lot of transfers it'll have to go to."

"I know," she said. She twisted her fingers together. "It's about my brother. She…she still doesn't know he's missing."

The courier's eyes softened slightly. "I'll make sure it gets there," he said. She tried to smile back at him, but all she could think of was the look on her grandmother's face when she learns that her only grandson was most likely dead.

-----

She stumbled down the gangplank, squinting as her manacles scraped the thin skin of her ankles. Seagulls cried overhead and the sea spray stung her lips. She sucked in huge gulping lungfuls of fresh air for the first time in months.

"Where are we?" she gasped.

"The mines," the man in front of her said tersely. "We're in the mines."

"What are we doing here?" she asked.

"It's obvious," he said. "Working. We'll work here until we die."

Her empty stomach twisted. "I'm not staying here," she said. "I can't- I'm going to get out of here."

"You have no choice."

She desperately attempted to pull free of her chains as she began the long slow walk from one hellhole to the next.

-----

Zuko nearly dropped his cup of tea when the child screamed. "What was that?" he said.

"It sounded like Jia," Katara said, leaping up from the table and dashing outside. Zuko followed at her heels.

The little girl sat on the curb, sobbing. A young woman in a white dress and a pale golden brown cloak knelt beside her. "That was a nasty fall," she said. She pulled out a handkerchief from a pouch on her embroidered golden sash and dabbed it against the little girl's bloodied knee. "You're all right. Where's your mother?"

"Jia, what happened?" Katara asked, holding out her arms.

Jia wobbled to her feet, sniffling and rubbing her eyes. "I falled," she said.

"She tripped over a loose paving stone." The young woman stood up, shaking the wrinkles from her skirt as Katara picked Jia up and set her on her hip. "I think she'll be all right."  
"Thank you," Zuko said. "What's your name?"

She turned towards him, and he realized that she was much younger than he thought- fifteen or sixteen, seventeen at the oldest. "Selah," she said.

"Would you like to come in and have a cup of tea?" Zuko asked.

"Thank you, but no," she said. Selah tucked a strand of light brown hair under her wide white headband. "I'm looking for the fire lord's palace. I was supposed to meet with him a week ago."

Zuko coughed. "You're the Isauran nun?" he said.

"Postulant," she corrected. "The fire lord contacted our abbey a while ago, but we couldn't spare anyone long enough until now."

"And they sent you?" Zuko said.

"The reverend mother sent me, yes," she said, a bit impatiently. "Do you know where I can find the fire lord."

"Right there," Katara said, nodding towards Zuko.

Selah looked at Zuko as he flushed red. "Oh," she said. She pressed her hands to her mouth. "I'm so sorry, my lord. I didn't know that you-"

"No, no, please don't do that," Zuko said. He glanced around at the mostly empty streets. "Come on inside. We can talk there."

He held the door open. Katara carried Jia over to an empty bench and set her down. "What's this?" Iroh said, wiping his hands on a towel.

"I falled," Jia explained as Katara bent water over her skinned knee.

"I know what will fix this," Iroh said. From the depths of his apron pockets he produced a large cookie. Jia's eyes brightened.

"No, no, it's too close to her dinner," Katara said absently. "Sit here. I'll get a bandage."

Jia pouted, but as Katara walked away Iroh slipped her the cookie on the sly. He caught sight of Selah and straightened. "Would you like a cup of tea, sister? You seem a bit chilled," he said.

"I'm just a postulant, so just can call me Selah," she said. "And as for the tea-"

"You seem like a chai-coconut kind of girl," Iroh said, snapping his fingers. "I'll be right back."

Selah sighed. "That's my Uncle Iroh," Zuko said, half-apologizing. "When it comes to tea, he doesn't take no for an answer."

"It is fairly cold outside," she confessed. She sat down at a table. "Should we discuss why you contacted the Isauran sisters?"

Zuko glanced over at Jia, who nibbled her cookie in utmost contentment as Katara rolled her eyes and bandaged the child's knees. "There's a dozen children living above this tea shop," he said. "My uncle wanted to provide a safe place for war orphans. But there's so many…we just can't take care of them all."

"So you're looking for a more permanent orphan's shelter," Selah finished.

"That's about it," Zuko said.

Selah folded her hands on the table. "One of the tenets of the Isauran order is assistance for those who have been orphaned," she said. "Opening a children's shelter would hold with Isaura's principles. I'm sure the mother superior would agree with you."

"Who's Isaura?" Katara asked. She set Jia on her feet and nudged her in the direction of the courtyard.

"She was the first female avatar," Iroh said as he set a steaming cup of tea in front of Selah. "A waterbender, is that right?"

Selah nodded and sipped her tea. "She founded the abbey when she was young," she said. "In those days, it was dangerous to be a girl." Jia's laugh echoed from the courtyard. "And honestly, not too much has changed."

-----

"Leave me alone, Ta Zhi," she mumbled.

The older girl shook her by the bare shoulder. She wrenched away. "You've got to get up, you've got a customer," she persisted.

"I don't want to work," she said.

"You have to. They'll flog you if you don't. You remember what happened to Mei Lin."

She did remember. The whistle of the whip, the metallic smell of blood, Mei Lin's frantic weeping…

She pushed herself up off her pallet. "I'm coming."

"Good girl." Ta Zhi smoothed her hair down. "He's waiting in room four. He paid for a half hour. You'll probably be done for the night after that."

She brushed past her and left the sleeping room. The stairs leading to the work rooms were narrow, crooked, and splintered; her bare shins held plenty of reminders of their rough surfaces.

Suddenly her stomach lurched. She sank to the step, leaning heavily against the wall as she waited for the wave of nausea to subside. Her knees shook. For a while she pressed her hand to her mouth, as if she could forcibly prevent herself from vomiting. But the heavy feeling in her throat finally dissipated.

She sat there a while longer, wrapping her arms around her stomach. The fluttering feeling in her stomach she had felt for months grew stronger. For a moment she buried her face in her hands, giving into the pure desperation and fear that had gnawed at her since the first time she had realized. But at long last she crept up the stairs, sick and dizzy.

The door to room four was open. Her customer paced back and forth in front of the bed. Swallowing the fluttering feeling of anxiety that rose up in her chest, she stepped into the room and closed the door.

-----

"How long do you think you'll stay?" Katara asked.

"As long as I'm needed," Selah said. She stared at the spacious bedroom. "Are you sure it's all right that I stay here?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Katara asked.

Selah set her pack down on the floor. "I can't remember sleeping anywhere but the novice or postulant dormitory wings at the abbey," she said. "It'll be strange to have an entire room all to myself."

Katara's mouth thinned. "I know the feeling," she said. "I was so used to sleeping outside with…with everyone else that I slept on the floor for the first few nights I was here."

Selah traced her fingers over the richly embroidered bedspread. "This'll be quite a story to tell the other postulants when I get back," she said. "Imagine, a nun-in-training living like a princess in the fire lord's palace." She grinned, kicking her flat brown shoes off. "My patients, too. They'll think it's a good story."

"Your patients?" Katara said.

Selah stretched her arms above her head. "We have a sort of a clinic," she explained. "Everyone is assigned a few rooms to tend. The other postulants are covering mine, but I'm sure my patients miss me."

-----

He struggled to sit up. "Where is she?" he asked.

"Please lie down," the postulant implored.

"I thought…" His arm suddenly exploded in pins and needles and he fell back against the pillows. "Where did she go?"

"She told you she was leaving," the plump girl pleaded. "Please lie still."

"I don't remember that," he argued.

"You don't remember anything," she said. She poured a glass of water and pressed it into his left hand.

"I remember her," he said. The girl's face flashed into his mind's eye, with her waving hair and her soft kind eyes. He frowned. There was someone else like that, someone he vaguely remembered, but it seemed her hair was darker. And there was something that glimmered- worn at her neck, maybe?

"Well, if you can remember Selah, that's an improvement," the plump postulant said in relief. "She's been worried sick about you, and that's a fact. But the fire lord wanted to speak to an Isauran sister, and the mother superior chose her." She gestured for him to drink, and he sipped the cold water obediently. "She'll be back soon, I imagine. Don't worry. Maybe you can surprise her and be well enough to walk by the time she returns."

He handed the glass back, but the image of the postulant blurred with the dark-haired girl, and he settled against the pillows with his mind racing.

-----

"Well, there you are," Mai said.

He glanced up. "Were you looking for me?" he blinked.

"I was," she sighed. She leaned against the wall. "It seems like that that's all I do nowadays."

He looked from one scroll to another. "Do what?"

"Look for you," she said sharply.

At the biting tone in her voice he put down his papers. "Mai, do you need something?" Zuko said.

Mai pushed away from the wall. "Yes," she said bitterly. "I need a boyfriend, not just an acquaintance."

"What are you talking about?" he said.

"I never see you," she said. "And when I do, you're reading useless papers or talking to that water tribe girl. And I…I…"

"You what?" he pressed.

Her black eyes snapped. "I want you to come and find me when you're ready to pay attention to me," she said. "When you're ready to act like I'm important."

She stalked away. He sighed, raking his fingers through his hair. "It's more trouble than it's worth," he mumbled under his breath, and he didn't pursue her.

-

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**Author's Notes:**

I haven't updated this one in a while. I think I'm just frustrated- it's not turning out the way I want it to. Especially Selah's introduction. If anyone has any good suggestions, I'll probably end up rewriting this chapter.

Oh, well. I hope that this story still piques your interest. Let me know what you think!


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